


I Can Only Imagine

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Based on a song, Canon compliant up to season 12, Fluff, God!Chuck - Freeform, Loss of Bodily Autonomy, M/M, Past Sam/Madison, Past SamJess, Past SamRuby, References of Torture, Sam Winchester’s Faith, Sam’s Trials and Tribulations, faith - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:15:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Sam used to imagine what it would be like to see God face to face. He doesn’t have to wonder anymore.





	I Can Only Imagine

**Author's Note:**

> Once upon a time, I told myself “No more GodSamit fics”. Yeah. I lied to myself, and it’s all because of this song. This fic has song lyrics/was inspired by LaShell Griffin’s version of “I Can Only Imagine” and it just filled me with FEELS. GODSAMIT FEELS. So I had to write the thing. 
> 
> Link to Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mIq4l4qYc7I

_ I can only imagine  _

_ What it will be like  _

_ When I walk by Your side _

 

It was no secret that Sam had faith. He wasn’t religious in the strictest sense of the term, but he was spiritual. It helped him reconcile the dark feelings that dwelled within him. 

He prayed, and he prayed often. When it was younger, it was for a normal life, for him and Dean to be normal kids and their dad to be a normal dad. When he was at Stanford, his focus shifted- it turned to him praying for Dean and John’s safety, for him to pass this test, for Brady to get better, for his LSTATS to come out fine. 

As he grew older, it became  _ please don’t forget about it. Please cleanse me. Take the darkness away. Take away the demon blood. Accept me for who I am.  _

He believed, even when Dean didn’t. 

 

_ I can only imagine _

_ I can only imagine _

 

He did have crises of faith. Of maybe there wasn’t a God. Or that He didn’t care at all. He had his doubts. He hated how the angels seemed to treat him like he was vermin- like he was  _ poison.  _ It hurt, to know that the beings he had been praying to since he was a child and knew what prayers did viewed him as little more than the demons that he hunted. Still, victories ensued, and Sam’s faith was reaffirmed. Castiel’s acceptance, especially, went a long way (even if he once referred to Sam as ‘an abomination’, but he was drunk so Sam never looked too deep into that). He began to see the demon blood, the addiction, being Lucifer’s as the trials God placed before him. And he had to pass each one but if he didn’t, it didn’t matter as much, because God still loved him. 

 

_ I can only imagine _

_ What my eyes will see  _

_ When your face is before me _

_ I can only imagine _

 

Learning that he was Lucifer’s True Vessel was his biggest crisis of faith in his twenties. It was the biggest life crisis he had, and it didn’t help that Lucifer was very. . . persuasive. Still, Sam held on faith to a God who didn’t exist, a God who wanted him to kill his brother, whether that be Adam or Dean. It was partly due to his faith, he thinks, as well as the memories triggered from the Impala that allowed him to get a grip over Lucifer and jump back into the Cage, performing the biggest sacrifice since Jesus Christ. 

 

_ Surrounded by Your Glory  _

_ What will my heart feel? _

_ Will I dance for you, Jesus?  _

_ Or in awe of You be still?  _

_ Will I stand in Your presence?  _

_ Or to my knees will I fall?  _

_ Will I sing “Hallelujah”?  _

_ Will I be able to speak at all?  _

_ I can only imagine _

 

Sam often wondered what God was like, and when he reached Heaven, would God return? What was Jesus like? 

Moreover, how would he  _ react  _ to God? Sam was easily flustered around angels, but around  _ God. . . _ Sam wondered if he would be overly dramatic or flustered or shy. And what was the proper protocol? 

He tried to ask Lucifer and Michael, but the two were too busy fighting that they completely ignored him. And so Sam was left to his imagination. Which was fine by him. It was a way to distract himself from the true forms of the two oldest archangels battling out their hatred. 

 

_ I can only imagine  _

_ When that day comes _

_ And I find myself standing in the sun _

 

Learning what he did when he was soulless, Sam began wondering what the proper atonement was. How does one atone for the sins they committed while they didn’t have a soul? If anything, having no soul left him breathless and crying for spiritual guidance in a world that hunters barely accepted angels, let alone God himself. And this wasn’t something that Dean would understand or try to help with. Hallucinating Lucifer didn’t help matters much, either, and the psychiatric ward that he was placed in was the worst place to try to find his faith again. He supposed he was lucky that he didn’t hallucinate Michael- he had a feeling that would be worse. At least Lucifer was funny sometimes. 

No, this was Sam’s cross to bear, and he floundered for a while. 

 

_ I can only imagine _

_ When all I will ever do is forever _

_ Forever worship You _

 

Then the Trials came. Sam knew Dean wanted to do them, because apparently Dean doesn’t think that Sam can do  _ anything,  _ but the Trials did do one thing: reaffirm his faith in God. It was like he was anointed to take on the Trials, to see them through. Even though he was at war with himself, he was able to refind his faith again through the Trials to seal the Gates of Hell forever. He felt  _ purified.  _ Sure, the Trials were slowly killing him, but he was willing to die for this. If it would help the world, then he was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice again. 

There were times during the Trials that he did feel like a sacrificial lamb- first Lucifer, now the Trials- but he did it because it was what was right and good. Terms he’s tried to model his entire life on. And somehow, when he killed the hellhound; when he freed Bobby’s soul from Hell; when he was purifying Crowley- he felt those things. Right. Good. He was right. He was good. 

 

_ I can only imagine _

 

Learning that Gadreel had taken over Sam’s body without Sam’s  _ actual  _ permission left Sam reeling. All of a sudden, he felt out of sorts with his body. Was it even his anymore? Who’s body was it? The list of possessions he’s had made him breathless. Meg, Lucifer, Leviathan (although that was technically a cloning process, but Sam still counted it), Gadreel, and Crowley- it made him sick, and he spent hours throwing up. Even Dean thought he had more of a right to Sam’s body- after all, he convinced Gadreel to trick Sam into saying ‘yes’ and possessing him. And then there was the time he was soulless. 

Even when it came to sex, the last partner he had a feeling of autonomy over his body with was Madison. And even all these years later, that thought hurt. Sure, he and Jessica were. . . kinky, to put it mildly, and Sam would do  _ anything  _ for her, but Jess always made it clear that Sam’s body was  _ his,  _ and no one else’s. 

Too bad Ruby couldn’t take the same advice. She controlled him and his body, by promising her blood if Sam didn’t do what she said. And after two detoxings, where it was obvious he had no control over his body didn’t help. 

 

_ Surrounded by Your Glory  _

_ What will my heart feel? _

_ Will I dance for you, Jesus?  _

_ Or in awe of You be still?  _

_ Will I stand in Your presence?  _

_ Or to my knees will I fall?  _

_ Will I sing “Hallelujah”?  _

_ Will I be able to speak at all?  _

_ I can only imagine _

 

Taking the purity pledge was the best thing that ever happened to him. Finally, by pledging himself to abstinence and chastity, by focusing on  _ him,  _ and on his needs, was he able to realize and reaffirm to himself that he didn’t belong to anyone. Not to Dean, not to Lucifer, not to  _ anyone.  _ He belonged to him, and him alone. The only one who could pass judgement on him was God, and he wasn’t even around to do so. Eating even healthier than he had been, running in the mornings before Dean woke up , getting a little more sleep at night. Things to ascertain that his body was HIS, and his alone. His faith was found as he began to read his Bible, search through the Men of Letter’s library, talk to Castiel. The seraph understood where Sam was coming from, and they would often have long talks into the night about finding faith when there seemingly is none. 

 

_ I can only imagine _

_ I can only imagine _

 

With Heaven on lockdown, and the angels on Earth, Sam wondered if he’d ever be in Heaven. Although he’s seen a ‘version’ of his Heaven, even though he’s seen Hell and he’s seen Purgatory, and he’s sassed Death and lived to tell the tale, he often wondered where he belonged. Where, exactly, did Azazel’s Special Child, the Boy King, the Vessel of the Devil himself belong? Was he a monster, like what he hunted? 

When he died, where would he go? 

And did God care? 

Sam liked to think that He did. 

 

_ I can only imagine _

_ When all I will ever do is forever _

_ Forever worship You _

_ I can only imagine _

 

To find out that the Prophet Chuck was actually  _ God. . . _ Sam couldn’t breathe. He didn’t know what to do. God assured him that calling him ‘Chuck’ was fine and actually preferred, and it simply reaffirmed his faith even stronger. 

When Chuck was damaged by Amara, and dying slowly, Sam helped Him out the best he could. And he wondered to himself,  _ when even God turns to you for support, who do you go to?  _ It didn’t fit as neatly into his worldview as he had hoped, and he tossed and turned for nights about it. 

So when Chuck was healed, life was in a whirlwind. The British Men of Letters got ahold of him, he was tortured yet again, and yet, he kept faith. When Lucifer procreated, he kept faith. He always kept his faith. 

Because he had seen the face of God, and God affirmed that he, Sam Winchester, was a  _ good person.  _ That he tried and that he had  _ faith.  _

And then when all was said and done. . . Chuck came for Sam. And held Sam while Sam sobbed in His arms, stroked his hair, took care of him. 

Their first kiss was tentative, and Sam didn’t know what possessed him to kiss  _ God, _ but Chuck didn’t seem to mind. 

For the first time since Jessica, Sam had a shoulder to truly cry on and not be judged for it. 

“She’s happy, right?” Sam asked one night as Chuck laid next to him, running His fingers through Sam’s hair. “Jessica, I mean.” 

Chuck smiled and nodded, kissing his forehead. “Yes, Sam. Jessica is happy in Heaven, and she misses you terribly. She understands why you did what you did, and forgives you for it.” 

Sam buried his face into Chuck’s shoulder. “She was so good to me, and I lied to her,” he whispered, the old guilt coming to the surface.  _ Another sin.  _

“You tried to protect her,” Chuck whispered. “We’ve been working on this, remember? You were doing what you thought was best for her. You didn’t know that Dean would come, that Brady would be possessed. You had no clue about anything that would change the course of your life. There’s no shame or sin in protecting the ones you love.” 

“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions,” Sam mumbled. 

Chuck sighed, half in exasperation and half in affection and kissed Sam’s forehead again. “I’ll tell you this until the day you die and then some,” He murmured, “You’ve atoned. You’re forgiven, now and forever. That’s coming from on high, too.” 

Sam gave a watery chuckle and Chuck hugged him tightly. “I love you, Sam. More than any other human that’s walked this Earth. You mean so much to me, because you’ve done as Jesus has- sacrificed yourself for humanity. Over and over again.” 

 

When the physical part of their relationship came into play, Sam had reverted back to more dangerous mindsets but Chuck quickly fixed that, reminding Sam that his body was  _ his,  _ and Chuck wasn’t some pagan godling who needed sex as a tribute or an offering. Nor did He want it. He wanted Sam’s body to be his own, and not owned by Him. It took some time, but eventually Sam got it through his thick skull (he was more stubborn than Michael some days, and that was saying something, in Chuck’s opinion). He still gave everything he had to Chuck, but it was willingly, and with Sam’s informed consent. And that was the greatest gift Chuck could ever receive. 

 

_ Surrounded by Your Glory  _

_ What will my heart feel? _

_ Will I dance for you, Jesus?  _

_ Or in awe of You be still?  _

_ Will I stand in Your presence?  _

_ Or to my knees will I fall?  _

_ Will I sing “Hallelujah”?  _

_ Will I be able to speak at all?  _

_ I can only imagine _

 

In the end, Sam didn’t have to imagine much at all what it was like to be in the presence of God. He was continuously awed by Him, devoted to Him and faithful to Him, and he loved every minute of it. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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